


Business with the bubble bath

by Prawnperson



Category: Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists! (2012)
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, M/M, generally pretty plotless, hand holding, kind of spoilers for the third book??, mixture of book and film, mood rings, they take a bath together that’s really it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21577546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prawnperson/pseuds/Prawnperson
Summary: Ok so how come scarf washes the captain’s hair but never the other way around?
Relationships: Pirate Captain/Pirate with a Scarf
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	Business with the bubble bath

“Mmmhhhh...”

“Steady on, number two.”

The pirate with a scarf flushes a deep, rosey colour and bites down gently on the heel of his palm where his chin is resting. The little circles being massaged into the nape of his neck feel like heaven, and he can’t help the little noises that leave his throat without his say so. 

“This is nice, isn’t it? Especially after all that horrible business with Marx and my bubble bath.”

It does not occur to either pirate to bring up the fact that said horrible business was a good number of years ago and certainly not worth bearing such a grudge over. Then again, it was good soap. The nice kind. 

This kind is nice as well, though, the pirate with a scarf thinks. That name currently seems a little redundant, considering the fact his precious scarf is currently hung up over a peg on the door in favour of a bare neck and collar, lest the fabric become limp and frazzled by the soap. 

The fingers at the back of his neck eventually find their way up as they begin to work up a lather of bubbles across the wet strands of hair. The rolling steam that fills the room smells of oranges, a fresh citrusy aroma that’s so different and much preferred to plain ivory soap or matey bubble bath.

“Do we usually not do this the other way around? Where I wash your hair?”

The pirate with a scarf asks, tilting his head forward a little as the captain uses the small cup from the bath shelf to rinse the soap from his hair.

“I thought it might be a nice change. Is it not?”

“No, no, it’s lovely.”

Whenever the captain finally seems satisfied with his work, he drains the bath and steps out before helping his second-in-command do the same. They both wrap themselves in towels before the cold can hit them. 

“You know, it was a very good idea of yours to start looting things like this. They’re very fluffy.”

The first mate gives a proud little chuckle in response and peels his wet hair away from the back of his neck, tying it up in a sodden ponytail to keep it off his skin. They dry off, the captain tying his robe around his waist and the pirate with a scarf tugging on his pyjamas. His response to the captain’s amused glare is the one he always gives.

“It’s cold.”

And, as if this is just as much a part of their routine as anything else, the pirate captain slinks and arm around the first mate’s waist as he opens up the bathroom door.

“Well then, we’d best see if we can warm you up.”

To the observer, the pirate with a scarf thinks, the teasing tone may make the whole scenario come off as something flirtatious and risqué. He wonders, although briefly, as he’s been dragged down the hall, of it would shatter their illusion to know that in reality, ‘warming up’ really does consist of extra blankets and a hot water bottle and Polly curled up in between them both. Said heat will almost always leave the captain grumbling his annoyance at some point in the night and complaining that it’s like an oven, despite the fact he never makes an effort to remove the other pirate from his arms in order to cool off.

He knows that, logically, he could definitely coax the captain into something more exciting, something like treasure hunting or knot tying or moon lit duelling, yet he has no desire to. There is no fiery passion needed whenever he has the promise of warmth and security and possibly even time to rewrite paragraphs in the captain’s atrociously tawdry romance novel. 

“You’re dawdling, number two.”

The captain informs, and whenever the pirate with a scarf looks down at their joined hands, he can see that the captain’s mood ring has turned bright, vivid orange. Despite himself, he smiles.

“Sorry, captain. Do carry on.”


End file.
